


Statue

by Jathis



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Inspired by Pygmalion and Galatea (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Kissing, Lost Love, Love, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: No one knew where it had come from, but it was very well made.
Relationships: LeFou & Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast), LeFou/Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Statue

“This doesn’t look anything like me!” Gaston snarled.

Lefou winced at the tone of his voice, looking at the object that had earned his ire. The large parcel had been set down in front of the tavern. The courier could only say that it was addressed to Gaston, shaking his head at any other questions.

“I don’t look anything like this!” Gaston hissed. He narrowed his eyes, huffing as he shook his head. “I’ve never worn my hair like that! I use guns, not a sword! Nobody uses swords anymore! I am far more handsome and strong! A statue of me would make sense at least. This is useless to me! Why would I want a statue of some random person?!”

“What do you want to do with it?” Lefou asked.

The larger man huffed, placing his hands on his hips as he considered his options. “It would be a waste to just get rid of it,” he muttered. He looked at Lefou and gestured to it. “You can have it, Lefou!”

“Me?”

“You could use it to decorate your garden!” Gaston said with a nod.

Lefou looked back at the statue in question. It wasn’t poorly made. It was a statue of a young man, standing straight and proud with a hand on the hilt of a sheathed sword. His hair was done in an odd style, two curled rolls on top of his head with the rest in a neat ponytail. His clothing was heavily detailed, down to the cravat tied around his throat and the jacket worn over his vest and shirt.

He really had no idea why someone would work so hard on something only to give it away to someone who didn’t want it.

“I suppose I could take it.”

Gaston clapped Lefou on the back. “There we go! At least it’s not a total waste,” he said.

“Oui, at least there’s that,” Lefou agreed. He tilted his head as he looked over the statue again, smiling to himself.

***

He put the statue in his garden in the back of his house. It was surrounded by flowers of white, pink, and yellow. Lefou supposed that it added some beauty to the garden and at least the birds had another place to sit now.

“I suppose you’ll need a name,” he absently said. “I’ve heard that having something like you without a name is bad luck.” He pursed his lips as he looked over the statue, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Tom?” he offered. He shook his head, snorting. “Non, I don’t think Tom fits you. Dick perhaps? Non, maybe not Dick either…”

He stepped closer, hoping that something would come to him as he looked over the details of the statue. Lefou ran a curious hand over the statue’s face, tracing over strong cheekbones and full lips. A look of determination had been carved into the stone.

The name came to Lefou suddenly. There was a faint pain in his chest but it went away before it could worry him. “Stanley,” he said, lowering his hand. “Your name is Stanley.” He smiled, laughing as he stepped back and offered a polite bow. “Bonjour, Monsieur Stanley! I hope you will enjoy your stay in my garden. Perhaps you’ll scare away the crows?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he walked away.

***

Over the years, Lefou found that he rather liked having the statue in his garden. Whenever he was able to get some time to himself; Lefou would go out and find himself talking to the statue while tending to his flowers. 

“Have you been enjoying yourself, Stanley?” he asked. He looked up from the weeds he had been pulling up and smiled. “You’ve been here quite some time now. I should hope so! I would hate to think that I was a poor host.”

Lefou stood up, brushing the dirt off of his legs. “It’s rather nice being able to talk to someone who will listen for once,” he said. He smiled sadly at that, shaking his head. “I wonder what that says about me that I find comfort in talking to you, hm?” He tipped his hat to the statue, “I shall see you again, monsieur Stanley!”

***

“He’s my best friend. He’s been my friend since we were children. Gaston always helped me.” Lefou sat with his back against the statue, staring off into the blue sky. “He was such a great help during the war. I wouldn’t be here without him. He saved my life.”

He deflated a little as he thought about what had happened the other day at the tavern. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to have people laugh at me,” he said. “He probably just thinks they’re laughing with us! That’s got to be the answer. He would never make me a joke. This whole Belle situation is just messing with his mind. He’ll get over it.”

Lefou bit his lower lip. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly again. “I know he doesn’t feel about me the way I do for him. I know that, but he also knows what I am and he’s never denounced me. That means something, doesn’t it?” He looked up at the statue as if expecting an answer and blushed when he realized what he was doing. He coughed, shaking his head as he laughed.

“Look at me. Talking to you as if you could talk back! Perhaps my nickname makes sense after all.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Everyone calls me Lefou...my name is Benoit,” he said. “I haven’t said it in so long and it’s been even longer since anyone else has used it.”

He pushed himself up onto his feet, brushing himself off before looking into the statue’s face. “Merci for listening to me, monsieur Stanley. It really does seem to help,” he softly confessed.

***

He was twisting his already badly damaged hat between his hands, wringing the brim and trying not to tear it apart. Lefou paced back and forth in his garden, his hands starting to tremble. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I know I should go back and get Maurice but if Gaston found out…”

Lefou winced and closed his eyes, shaking his head to try and get the image of Maurice bound and helpless out of his head. “I know what’s right but I also know what Gaston wants from me. If I ever made him upset he could denounce me.”

He stopped in front of the statue, his heart racing as he searched the statue’s face as if looking for an answer in his carved face. He reached up slowly to touch the statue’s cheek but stopped himself, lowering his hand again.

“I’m a coward. I’m nothing but a coward,” he murmured in self disgust. “I need to grow a damned spine!”

The statue stood silently in front of him, hand still resting on the hilt of his sword and face passive and handsome.

Lefou found himself wishing the statue could talk back. Wordlessly he walked away, hoping to drink enough that he didn’t have any nightmares in his sleep that night.

***

“Do you want to be next?! Go get my horse!” Gaston snarled.

Lefou moved on numb legs through the mob. His heart was pounding in his ears and he found himself almost deaf from all of the shouting surrounding him.

He didn’t realize he had gone to his garden until his eyes focused on Stanley’s face. His eyes started to burn with tears and for the first time in a long time he let them fall freely. “I’m a coward,” he whispered.

Lefou stepped closer, touching the statue’s cheek with one hand. “Something bad is going to happen tonight. I can’t stop it. I don’t think I ever could stop it. I’m probably not coming back after tonight.” He leaned forward then, kissing the statue on the lips before realizing he was doing it. For a brief moment he thought they felt warm but he supposed it was only himself.

“Au revoir, monsieur Stanley,” he murmured before tearing himself away and following after the others.

***

Fighting with a talking teacup on his side wasn’t the strangest thing that had happened to him that night. He had also been punched several times by a hat rack, burned on the bottom by a candelabra, and nearly crushed by a harpsichord. Having one of the objects on his side was a nice change this night.

A trolley rolled past and the teacup hopped from his hands onto the trolley. Lefou just hoped she wouldn’t get smashed by anyone else.

“Traitor!”

Lefou braced himself as several of the villagers charged at him. He knew that his actions would not go unpunished but he also knew that he could defend himself just as well. He used his fists to defend himself, knocking a few teeth loose with each blow.

He was struck from behind with the butt of a pitchfork and hit the floor hard. Lefou grit his teeth, tasting his blood on his tongue as his attackers advanced on him. He shut his eyes tightly, refusing to look up. He was just glad that he had stood up for himself before the end.

He heard fighting all around him and yet nothing touched him. Slowly Lefou opened his eyes and he frowned in confusion, staring at the back of the one who had come to his defense. “Who..?”

They turned around, looking down at Lefou in concern as they sheathed their sword. “Are you hurt, Benoit?” they asked.

Lefou found himself unable to speak. He stared into soft brown eyes and a familiar face. Numbly he allowed them to help him back to his feet, holding onto their arms as he tried to find his voice. “...your hair…” he blurted.

The young man laughed, reaching up to ensure his victory rolls were intact. “Come, we must defend the castle!”

He nodded, following after them.

Most of the villagers were chased out of the castle. Lefou and the young man stood outside with the other inhabitants of the castle, watching them leave.

“Are you..?” Lefou turned back and winced when he saw that the young man’s body from his feet to his middle had turned back to stone. “You were the statue!”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer,” they said as the rest of their body slowly started to turn back to stone. “I always liked listening to you, Benoit. I don’t mind standing in your garden. I will always keep you company.”

All around them the inhabitants of the castle were turning fully into objects. The teapot’s weeping was cut off as she fell still and a bench that had acted like a dog fell over. There was a clock that fell silent and a feather duster that fell away from a candelabra.

Lefou didn’t see any of it. He just stood looking sadly into the still face of the statue. He reached up to touch their cheek, hugging them without shame as he let himself cry against their chest. He had found someone who actually cared about him and now they were nothing but a statue once more. He would always be alone it seemed.

The burst of light startled Lefou. He found himself being held in warm living arms and he could hear a beating heart against his ear. “What..?”

All around them the objects were turning into humans once again. Familiar faces soon came to his mind and he was surprised to realize he remembered some of them.

Including the young man holding him.

“Stanley,” he breathed.

Stanley smiled, kissing the top of Lefou’s head before bursting into laughter. “The curse is broken! We are all human again!” he said.

Lefou laughed, cupping Stanley’s face between both of his hands. “I remember you! You worked in the castle for the prince! You were a tailor…”

“With my maman and papa,” Stanley said with a nod. “You had only just begun to court me before the curse took me from you. My parents could still move in their forms but I...I was a statue. I could do nothing but listen to everything around me. My eyes didn’t even work.”

Lefou could only shake his head. He looked around once more, watching as the villagers found lost relatives and friends among the crowd. He saw the girl Belle step out, followed by the prince himself.

He looked back at Stanley, laughing before pulling their head down to kiss them once more. “Stanley. My Stanley.”

“My Benoit,” Stanley agreed, kissing him again.

“Stanley? Oh! Stanley!” They were swept up into the arms of the woman who had once been a wardrobe, a small dog barking at their feet as the former harpsichord laughed, revealing his few remaining teeth. “My beautiful boy! She was so cruel to separate our family like that! My heart cried out for you every day of this curse! I thought I would never see my beautiful boy again.”

“Maman,” Stanley greeted her with a laugh.

As his memories continued to return to him, Lefou found himself unable and unwilling to let go of Stanley’s hand. He had lost him once, he would not lose him again.

Stanley smiled down at Lefou and pulled him into a deep kiss, promising that they would never be apart again.


End file.
